


Mylene and Shaolin's Excellent, Only Slightly Illegal, Adventures

by courtneythenerd



Series: The Get Down Crew [5]
Category: The Get Down (TV)
Genre: F/F, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-27
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-09-20 04:56:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9476645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/courtneythenerd/pseuds/courtneythenerd
Summary: Mylene is bored. Shaolin is bored. They decide to run some errands together.Things happen. Good things. Things they could probably be arrested for. But still good things.





	1. Bored

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pathotrix](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pathotrix/gifts).



> I maintain that Mylene and Shaolin could have a formidable, if not mischievous friendship. This fic is a part of my musings.

Shaolin’s getting soft as fuck.

He already _knew_ that--he knew when he first met Zeke and couldn’t bring himself to seriously fight him that this big-headed nigga was going to turn him into mush. And every touch and kiss since then has dulled Shao’s edges more and more.

But this is fucking ridiculous. Like, right now, Shao’s sitting in the middle of the temple, too pissy to even spin, all because Zeke has to work with Papa Fuerte _all fucking day_.

It’s _Saturday_ . How much politicking they need to be doing on a Saturday? He and Zeke had stuff to do. Stuff Shaolin _really_ wanted to do.

But now Zeke won’t get off until this evening.

To make it even worse, the Kiplings are busy, too. Ra-Ra has a “meeting” with some comic book nerds. Boo-Boo and Napoleon are off doing whatever the fuck they do. And Dizzie is all cuddled up with _his_ boyfriend.

And Yolanda and Mylene are probably off having some epic ass romance or some shit.

Shaolin sighs heavily and leans back onto the ground next to the turntables. He covers his eyes with his hat. Then he pulls a face at the strong smell of sweat.

“I need to wash this shit,” he mutters to himself, tossing to hat to the side with a grimace on his face. “Fucking gross, man.”

Shaolin shoots a look at his turntables and groans. He’s not used to not wanting to spin. Shaolin _always_ wants to spin. But it’s hard to get the feelings up when he’s so focused on Zeke helping some politician lie to white folk. When he’s trying to count the exact time it’ll take Zeke to come back on this side of town, keeping the subway times in mind and all that . . .

Okay, no. Shaolin’s fucking _sick_.

Shaolin bolts upright. Shaolin knew this love shit would drive him out of his mind. Shaolin needs something to do. He needs a distraction.

“Hey, Shaolin! You up there?”

. . . And that distraction is walking up to his room right now, apparently.

**

Mylene’s hasn’t had a boring Saturday in at least three months.

In between Lydia and Mylene having to move, writing and recording music with Jackie, Yolanda and Regina, and spending every possible minute avoiding Francisco until he and Lydia figure their shit out, Mylene’s had a lot to do.

But this Saturday is different. Her mother’s working extra hours at the store because it costs a lot for a store owner who is going through a divorce from her money-hungry preacher husband to have an apartment of her own. Regina and her mother are going through some much-needed bonding time.

And Yolanda. Yolanda’s also going through some much-needed family time with her parents.

Yolanda’s parents asked her to help out with an all-day gig at a fancy hotel in Manhattan, not too far from Marrakesh studios. Adele and Winston asked Yolanda to sing with them, which is a huge deal. Music brought that family together like nothing else could.

Mylene really wants to be following Yolanda around all day, but Yolanda had told her that she was already so nervous that seeing Mylene “would actually probably make me pass out and then throw up and then pass out again.”

So Mylene had promised to only stop in the for the last set and had quickly become stir-crazy in her tiny apartment. And as she was sitting in her apartment, slowly but surely losing her mind, Mylene realized there is at least one other person who is just as bored--if not more bored--than her.

Which is why Mylene’s now walking up to Shaolin’s temple.

**

“Hey, Shaolin!” Mylene yells. “You up there?”

Shaolin hops smoothly off of the floor and dusts himself off.

“Yep,” he calls back, reaching for his hat before remembering how bad it smells. He picks out his fro as he hears Mylene’s footsteps approach him.

By the time Shaolin’s straightened himself up, Mylene is waltzing in.

“What’s up?” Shaolin asks casually, standing like he wasn’t just lying on the floor.

Mylene shrugs like coming up to the temple still didn’t make her slightly nervous.

“Nothing. Just wanted to see what you were up,” Mylene answers nonchalantly.

Shaolin raises an eyebrow at Mylene, giving her a skeptical look that Mylene tries not to budge under. Then he slowly leans around and peers behind her. Mylene raises her own eyebrow at Shaolin and waits for him to see whatever he’s looking for.

“Yolanda’s busy and you’re bored as fuck, huh?” Shaolin asks bluntly.

Mylene blinks at Shaolin and immediately drops the guard she’d unconsciously put up.

“Yeeeep,” Mylene draws out, ending the phrase with a pout.

Shaolin chuckles as Mylene makes a face.

“What’s she doing that you aren’t doing too?”

Mylene huffs. “She has an all-day gig with her parents at a hotel near the studio. But she only wants me to come to the _last_ show, because I apparently make her nervous.”

Shaolin laughs again and nods. “Yeah, I can see that.”

Mylene’s shoulders slump and she glares at Shaolin. “What’s that mean?”

“I mean, sometimes the person you’re really into makes you nervous,” Shaolin starts to explain, “And you don’t wanna fuck up in front of them, so you try to keep them back until you think you got it perfect.”

Mylene blinks in surprise: that’s not what she thought Shao would say. It actually reminds her of a comment Zeke once made to her.

“So does Zeke make you nervous sometimes?”

Shao feels himself blush. He thinks about the buzzing he feels under his skin when he’s standing right next to Zeke, when his fingers are top of records and his eyes are on Zeke.

Shit, Zeke’s making Shao nervous right now, all the way from across town. The very thought of Zeke has always set Shaolin on fire.

“I mean, he makes me nervous,” Shaolin answers, trying to shrug it off, “but he makes me calm, too. I don’t really know how to explain it.”

Mylene feels a warmth in her stomach at the words--words that are almost exactly what Zeke told her the first night she went to Les Inferno. The warmth blossoms into a full heat when she thinks about the nervousness she’s felt around Yolanda.

It’s true. Yolanda makes her nervous, but she makes her calm. Like everything and nothing at all can happen to them.

Mylene starts to think so hard about Yolanda that she almost forgets where she is. She looks over at Shaolin and sees that he’s not really here, either. He’s back where he’s been all day--with Zeke.

“So anyway,” Mylene says firmly, pulling them both out of their reveries, “I’m bored and you’re bored. I’m guessing Zeke is working today or something?”

“Uh, yeah,” Shaolin stammers. “Yeah. He’s with . . .” Shaolin’s voice trails off; he’s just now realizing how awkward it might be to bring up Francisco.

Mylene nods, trying to use the movement to to somehow decrease the awkwardness of the moment.

“Right, working,” she finishes briskly. “So he’ll get off tonight, probably around the time Yolanda will be performing her last few sets with her parents,” Mylene calculates. “There’s gotta be _something_ you and I can do until then.”

Shaolin thinks for a moment, crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes.

“I _was_ planning on picking up a couple of records with Zeke today,” Shaolin thoughtfully. Then he focuses on Mylene. “And I’m betting you’ll want something _new_ for when you show up at Yolanda’s gig tonight.”

Mylene smiles brightly, the wheels in her head already turning. Shaolin looks at Mylene and can already tell that some shit is about to go down.

“Well,” Mylene says brightly. “It sounds like we have errands to run.”


	2. Lady-Killing Romantic

Mylene thinks Shaolin walks too slow. 

He stays behind her nearly the entire time they walk to a boutique.  Sure, Mylene’s got long legs, but they aren’t longer than Shaolin’s. 

Mylene tries to stealthily to look over her shoulder to see just what Shaolin is doing back there. And she thinks she’s being sneaky until she sees Shaolin give her a cheeky smile.

“You lonely up there?” Shaolin asks, raising an eyebrow at Mylene.

Mylene rolls her eyes and whips around. Shaolin stops old and laughs as her hair brushes up against his nose. 

“Why are you walking so slow?” Mylene asks, only slightly irritated by the dismissive look Shaolin’s giving her.

“I’m not in that big of a hurry,” Shaolin answers with a shrug. “Why are you walking so fast?”

“I’m  _ not  _ walking fast. You’re just walking slow!” Mylene suddenly feels a little flustered and embarrassed, although she has no idea why. 

But she very quickly figures out why when Shaolin gives her a sly look.

“Yeah, you are,” Shao says. “You must have a perfect dress in mind. Something  _ real cute  _ for Yolanda?” 

Mylene feels herself blushing and she hates everything about it. She hates it even more when Shaolin cracks up at her. 

“Oh shut up!” Mylene yells, rolling her eyes. “Excuse me for wanting to look nice.” Mylene gives Shaolin the up-and-down and snorts. “Like you don’t spend hours making sure your shirt and underwear are the same shade of red.”

“Aye, that’s my signature!” Shaolin cries defensively while Mylene laughs. “Shaolin Fantastic is red from head to toe. Don’t you forget it!” 

Mylene spots the boutique--the same one Yolanda got those oh-so-little shorts a while back--and nods for Shaolin to follow her.

“Yeah, well, I just want to look nice from head to toe,” she counters prissily. 

Shaolin snorts, but follows Mylene around the store as she shops. No matter how disco some of the dresses look, Shaolin has to admit that Mylene would probably look good in all of them. Plus, it beats staring at his ceiling at the temple. 

Mylene stops in front of this little dark blue number and Shaolin’s impressed. It’s shorter than he thought she’d picked. Plus, the blue would probably go good with her skin.

Mylene fingers the midnight blue dress and smiles. She picks it up off the rack and turns to head to the cashier. 

Right as she moves, two girls who had come into the store after them, brush past her and Shaolin. One of the girl’s shoulders collides with Mylene’s and Mylene nearly drops the dress.

Shaolin instinctively reaches for Mylene’s elbow as Mylene cranes her neck to watch the two girls walk by.

“Um, excuse me?” Mylene demands, standing up straight with the dress in her hand. 

The girls turn around and one of them pulls a face at Mylene. Mylene vaguely recognizes them as two girls from school. She can’t remember one of the girls’ name, but she definitely knows the one who bumped her is named Lexi.

“What?” Lexi asks, putting her hand on her hip.

“You bumped into me,” Mylene answers firmly. “I mean, I know it’s kinda a tight space, but you had room to not bump into me.” 

Lexi looks over at her friend, who promptly rolls her eyes.

“Maybe I would’ve had more room if  _ you  _ weren’t in my way, Princess Cruz.” 

Mylene raises an eyebrow and turns around to look at Shaolin. Shaolin’s also raising his eyebrow, but he’s more surprised than anything.

“What’s  _ that  _ supposed to mean?” Mylene spits out, rolling her neck in a way Shaolin’s never seen. 

The girl-- _ Lexi _ \--crosses her arms and steps to Mylene.

“It means your stuck-up self should’ve moved when you saw me coming!” 

Before Shaolin can blink, Mylene is tossing him that dress and getting  _ real _ close to Lexi. And by the time he catches the dress, Mylene’s raised her voice about twenty decibels. 

“Who the fuck you calling stuck up?!” 

Before the voice in the back of his head can tell him this is probably a bad idea, Shaolin slides into Mylene and Lexi, holding his arms out.

“Hey, hey! Everybody chill out,” Shaolin says, quickly pulling out his “I got a girl who guards my Pumas” voice. 

Apparently, that voice hasn’t lost any of its charm, because Lexi and her friend instantly cool down and give Shaolin a long stare.

Shaolin gives her his best smile and the slightest bit of bedroom eyes. Lexi smiles back, giving Shaolin the up-and-down. Mylene turns her nose up at it all.

“Now, now, no need to raise any voices, okay?” Shaolin continues. “I’m sure it’s all just a misunderstanding. We didn’t mean to be in your lovely way.”

Mylene openly rolls her eyes, but neither girl notices. They both so focused on Shaolin that Mylene might as well have disappeared.

“Wait a second,” the other girl says, peering around Lexi. “You’re Shaolin Fantastic!”

“Lady-killing romantic?” Lexi adds, looking at Shaolin intensely.

She’s damn near leering at him to Mylene. Mylene wants to snatch her eyes out. 

Also . . . lady-killing romantic?

Mylene stifles a giggle and shoots a look at the back of Shaolin’s head. And Shaolin, the eyes in the back of his head catching, tosses her one over his shoulder. He then hands Mylene her dress back and gently puts a hand on Lexi’s shoulder

“You hang out with  _ her _ ?” Lexi asks, saying her like it left a bad taste in her mouth.

Mylene twitches and sets her jaw. But Shaolin just smiles serenely, fully aware that he’s actually in control of this situation.  And control is not something he has very often. 

“Mylene’s a good friend of mine. To be honest, I think your assessment of her is incorrect,” Shaolin answers, trying to use words the way Books and Ra do. “We don’t want any trouble or fuss. We just trying to get to the cashier.”

Lexi looks at her home girl, then sighs and bats her eyes at Shaolin. Without another word, Lexi takes a step over and clears the way.

Mylene steps through the space and rushes to the cashier. She makes the quickest transaction she’s never made in her life as Lexi continues to flirt with Shaolin. Listening to the low rumble of Shaolin’s smooth voice, Mylene has to bite back a laugh as the cashier hands her the dress, the receipt and her change. 

When she turns back around, Shaolin holds out his arm for Mylene to take hold of. 

As they head back to the door, Shaolin turns around and raises an eyebrow at Lexi.

“Oh, by the way, jealousy isn’t a good look on you. Stay fly, honey,” Shaolin says, winking at her.

Mylene catches a glimpse of Lexi’s shocked face as the door swings closed. 

Shaolin Fantastic, the fucking lady-killing romantic. 

As soon as they’re back on the street, Mylene bursts into loud laughter.

“Lady-killing  _ romantic _ ?!” Mylene’s chest jumps as she shakes with laughter. 

“Oh, shut up!” Shaolin yells with a laugh of his own. “It’s a stage name, aight? I do the dances, I talk the shit, the ladies fall! It works,” Shaolin barely gets through the last sentence and starts laughing all over again.

“Well, thank you, Shaolin,” Mylene smiles and throws her free arm over Shaolin’s shoulders casually.

“No problem, Lene,” Shaolin answers with a smile.

Mylene looks over at Shaolin again and laughs.

“Oh God, Shao,” Mylene says happily. “I am  _ never  _ letting this go.”


	3. What You Know About Buying A Record?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Someone uses a slur against Shaolin in this chapter. Yeah, that one.

Shaolin’s really picky about his record stores.

Mylene makes Shaolin stop at two before Shaolin finds the one he wants.

At the first two stores, Shaolin gave Mylene a look, and then made Mylene wait while he went inside and skeptically inspected them. He stayed in there a few minutes, looked around with a turned up nose or a raised eyebrow, then told Mylene they needed to leave.

Mylene’s more than a little confused, but she hasn’t stopped him to ask what’s up. Shaolin’s got his determined look on and Mylene’s already learned that a determined Shaolin is also a stubborn, more than a little reckless Shaolin.

(Not that she’s any better, of course.)

Now, they’re at this ma and pop store that’s damn near Harlem. Just like before, Shaolin has Mylene stand outside for a second as he pokes his head and scans the store. Then, he nods to himself, and looks back at Mylene.

“This is it,” Shaolin tells her, opening the door for her to enter.

“Okay, but _why_ this one?” Mylene asks, looking around the small.

Shaolin gives a small smile and shrugs. “This one is my kind of spot, I guess.”

It doesn’t look like anything special to Mylene: small, with blue walls. Records are stacked all over the place; customers don’t seem to care about the racks and shelves the records are supposed to go on.  

But Mylene has to admit: it feels pretty homey. Blaxploitation posters line the walls. When Mylene sniffs the air, she smells the faint scent of plantain. And Boris Gardiner’s “Every Nigga Is A Star” plays faintly in the background. It’s a place she can imagine herself staying in for a while.

A bell rings and an old Black man walks out from a door behind the cash register. He’s bald with a scruffy, gray beard and kind eyes. He looks nicer than most people Shaolin has met.

“Hey, you bum,” he calls to Shaolin cheerfully.

If it were anyone else in the world (except for probably Zeke) calling him a bum, Shaolin would flip out. But Mr. James is cool people. Plus, he’s old as hell, so it really wouldn’t matter if Shaolin tried to set him straight.

“Hey, Mr. James,” Shaolin calls back with a smirk.

“None of them no-good fools came in behind, did they?” Mr. James asks, still smiling. He peeks around Shaolin with a raised eyebrow. “Some of them came in earlier today. I had to threaten them.”

Shaolin laughs. “No, I didn’t see any of them. But I do have my friend Mylene with me.”

Mylene steps forward and waves shyly at Mr. James.

“Well, hey there, Mylene!” he says cheerfully. “How you meet this boy? You look way too nice to hang out with him.”

Mylene giggles while Shaolin rolls his eyes good-naturedly.

“ _Anyway_ ,” Shaolin says, “I was wondering if you had copy of ‘Trouble Man’ in? That Marvin Gaye song?”

Mr. James’s face lights up, but then falls.

“I _had_ a copy,” he answers, rubbing his the back of his neck. “But those punks that came in earlier bought the last one. Had an attitude, too,” Mr. James adds grumpily.

Shaolin’s shoulders slump and he frowns. “You know if you’ll get more?”

“I’m not really sure,” Mr. James says apologetically. “You know that one came out some time ago. I wish I’d known you’d want it. I definitely would’ve sold it to you before them other fools.”

Shaolin frowns again and sighs sadly. Mylene shifts her garment bag to her left hand and touches his shoulder empathetically.

“I got some other Marvin if you’re interested,” Mr. James offers.

“No thanks,” Shaolin responds. He sounds so sad Mylene can barely stand it.

“Can I ask who bought the record off of you?” Mylene asks politely. Maybe they’ll get lucky and it’s somebody they know, somebody they can make a deal with.

But then again, are they ever lucky? No, they’re not.

The next thing out of Mr. James’s mouth reminds Mylene that she and Shaolin are literally never lucky.

“Some punks that call themselves the ‘Notorious 3’ or something like that,” Mr. James says dismissively.

Shaolin’s face promptly changes from sadness to irritated-beyond-belief-ness.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Shaolin mumbles.

“Yep, they got it a few minutes before you got here, actually,” Mr. James says thoughtfully. “I’m sorry, Shaolin.”

Shaolin gives Mr. James a small smile as he and Mylene turn to head out of the door.

“Thanks anyway,” he calls back.

Mylene waves at Mr. James as Shaolin begins to storm off.

“The motherfucking Notorious Three,” Shaolin yells.

Anger makes him walk fast: Mylene has to almost jog to catch up with him.

“I’m so sick and tired of them. Them niggas should’ve hid back under whatever rock they came from after we whooped their asses,” Shaolin says with extreme annoyance. “They’re garbage. They’re wack as hell. They’re--”

“Right, there!” Mylene calls out, holding her garment bag out to stop Shaolin.

Sure enough, the Notorious Three are standing around on the corner.

“And they have the record,” Mylene adds, focusing her eyes on the large, flat package in their DJ’s hands.

Shaolin’s eyes go wide and he hurries towards DJ Big Planet.

“Shaolin,” Mylene cautions, but Shaolin’s focused and moving.

Before either of them know it, Shaolin’s standing only a few feet away from DJ Big Planet. Mylene, her spidey senses tingling, stands a few feet behind Shaolin.

“Well, well, if it isn’t Shaolin WACK-tastic,” DJ Big Planet says tauntingly.

MC Luke and Silent Carlito both snicker. Shaolin rolls his eyes.

“Nigga, that joke was wack!” Shaolin shouts. “The fuck you doing around here anyway?”

“Us?” DJ Big Planet asks, feigning innocence as he looks back at his crew. “Why, we buying a record! I mean, actually _buying_ it. I know that’s something yo’ broke ass don’t know nothing about.”

Shaolin flares his nostrils. Mylene sees his left hand twitch.

Shaolin gives DJ Big Planet a smirk and looks him up and down.

“I know something about _buying_ records,” Shaolin retorts. “But, man, what’s the point of buying a record if you can’t even spin? Or if you don’t have a crew that actually spit over it?”

DJ Big Planet can’t hide the offense on his face. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” Shaolin continues, taking a step closer to Big Planet. “All the loud ass speakers in the world can’t make up for being wack, man.”

Big Planet squares his shoulders and glares at Shaolin with a hostile look in his eyes.

“And winning a couple of little battles can’t make up for being a faggot!”

Now see, there are a couple of words that instantly send Mylene into her own pissed-off-beyond-belief territory. And the word Big Planet just used against Shaolin is one of them.

“What the fuck you just say?” Mylene shouts, taking one huge step around Shaolin to look Big Planet in the eye.

Shaolin, who was getting ready to cuss Big Planet out and take a couple of swings, stares at the back of Mylene’s head in surprise. He’d heard that Mylene knocked the shit out of Little Wolf and, quite frankly, Shaolin would not mind if she did the same to Big Planet.

Big Planet, not realizing the danger he might be in, gives Mylene a dirty look.

“Who the fuck are you? His bodyguard or some shit?”

Mylene has a bunch of cuss words she could throw at Big Planet. But something she’s recently learned is that men like him have one giant weak spot: their egos.

“Actually,” Mylene begins, cradling her garment bag and tilting her head, “I could ask _you_ that? Who are you, again?”

Big Planet looks taken back and shoots a look at Luke and Carlito.

“We the Notorious Three,” Big Planet says, trying to put bass in his voice.

Mylene gives Big Planet the slowest up-and-down she can. She can feel him squirming underneath her gaze.

“ _Notorious_? Really?” Mylene presses.

Slowly, Mylene begins to circle Big Planet, inspecting him as if he were for sale. Big Planet, not wanting to lose sight of her eyes, stumbles around in a circle, trying to follow her sight.

“Notorious?” Mylene repeats. She whips her around to shoot Luke and Carlito derisive looks.

Luke and Carlito, not used to someone coming at them the particular way Mylene is, both clam up and look at one another with uncertainty.

Mylene stands so that Big Planet is forced to turn his back on Shaolin. The record hangs loosely from Big Planet’s fingers and Shaolin can’t stop staring at it.

“You’re supposed to be a Herculoid, right? One of Kool Herc’s?” Mylene questions, taking a big step closer to Big Planet.

Big Planet takes one step back, making his back much closer to Shaolin. Shaolin doesn’t move at all.

“Yeah,” Big Planet answers, the bass in his voice completely gone now.

“That’s funny,” Mylene says, taking yet another step towards Big Planet, “because, as far as I know, Kool Herc hasn’t said _shit_ about you guys.”

Big Planet’s face twitches and he takes another step back. Shaolin backs up slightly, shifting his eyes from the Marvin Gaye record to the back of Big Planet’s head.

“I mean,” Mylene continues, “he’s not spreading the word about you like Grandmaster spreads about the Get Down Crew. If he was really down for you--or if you were _worth_ being down for--wouldn’t everybody in the Bronx know your name?”

Big Planet’s eyes go wide and Mylene smiles maliciously.

“Well,” Mylene says, “ _wouldn’t they?”_

And with that question, Mylene jumps as hard as she can at Big Planet. And Big Planet--big, bad, “cool” Big Planet--trips over his own feet and falls flat back on his back.

Shaolin jumps just in time to avoid Big Planet falling on him. And without hesitation, Shaolin reaches down and snatches the record from Planet’s hand.

“Hey!” Luke yells, reaching towards Mylene.

Before Luke can put a finger on her, Mylene turns around and hits Luke as hard as she can with her garment bag.

And Mylene must not know her own strength, because that garment bag hits Luke so hard that he actually falls into Carlito. And poor Carlito, unprepared for any of it, smacks into the brick wall beside them.

By the time Big Planet has gotten off of his back, Shaolin and Mylene are running away cackling, waving the record and trailing the garment bag behind them.

“FUCK YOU!” Big Planet yells at them.

Doesn’t really matter: Shaolin and Mylene aren’t listening to him anyway.

When they’ve gotten a good bit of distance away from the Notorious Three, Mylene and Shaolin stop to catch their breath.

“Shao,” Mylene says breathlessly, “did we just rob them?”

Shaolin looks over at Mylene and cracks up.

“Shit,” he says with a laugh, “we did.”

Mylene looks at Shaolin with wide eyes and bursts into hysterical laughter.

“OH NO! I’M A CRIMINAL NOW!”

And Shaolin, who never thought the word “criminal” would be nice to hear, doubles over laughing, tears streaming down his face.


	4. A Good Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's short, but cute. 
> 
> Hope you like it!

The subway has never looked so alive than it has this Saturday night.

At least Mylene thinks so.  Mylene can’t help but notice how different all the women look when they’re on their way to parties and not to work. Drab dresses are replaced with sequins and shimmer. Skin-toned eyeshadow is replaced with bright blue. And the fros and curls almost block the subway windows.

Everything--everyone--looks alive on Saturday night.

Shaolin doesn’t think it looks all that different as he waits with Mylene. He’s seen at all on every night of the week. The colors, the dresses, the hair, the girls--nothing surprises Shaolin much anymore.

Except for Mylene. Shaolin looks over at Mylene as she nervously taps her foot and touches up her lipstick again. He laughs and she shoots him a skeptical look.

“What’s so funny, Fantastic?” Mylene asks teasingly.

“You,” he answers easily.

Mylene snorts and rolls her eyes as Shaolin puts his arm around her.

“You not gonna be late and you look fine, I swear,” Shaolin reassures her.

Mylene looks up at Shaolin and gives him a shy smile. Then she thinks about how she and Shaolin have gotten _here_ \--here smiling at each other and helping each and _caring_ about each other--and smiles broadly. 

For all the trouble they could get into, neither Shaolin or Mylene can think of anyone better to get into it with.

Mylene reaches over and hugs Shaolin, surprising him once again.

Just as she pulls back, her ride pulls in.

“See ya, Shaolin,” Mylene calls as she boards the subway.

Shaolin smiles and waves at his friend.

“See ya.”

**

Yolanda has never looked so beautiful than she has tonight.

Decked out in red and gold, with her afro on full display, golden eyeshadow covering her eyelids and wine-colored lipstick painting her full lips, Yolanda looks like the sweetest dream Mylene’s ever had.

The room Yolanda, Winston and Adele are performing in is draped in dark red, green and gold. Adele’s dark skin shines as she plays a jet black grand piano. Winston rocks back and forth, singing to himself as he softly drums behind his daughter.

And Yolanda, her voice deep, dark and rich, commands the room. Red-clothed hips sway side to side as she croons. The crowd moves with her in the dim room, their own bright clothes barely visible in the low light.

Mylene still can’t quite believe she’s real. That all of _this_ is real.

Mylene’s in a reverie watching Yolanda, being lulled into deepest calm by Yolanda’s sound. She’s never felt so calm and nervous and chaste and lustful before. And it’s all because of Yolanda.

After what feels like an eternity, the lights go up and the audience claps and whistles loudly. The Kiplings’ last show is done.

And when Yolanda comes up from taking her last bow, she sees Mylene staring at her. Mylene smiles, and a wave of heat crashes over Yolanda.

**

They waste no time.

As soon as Yolanda’s off the stage (and far enough away from her parents), she and Yolanda have their arms and lips on one another.

“I missed you today, too,” Yolanda says through a giggle as Mylene presses her closer.

Mylene leans her forehead against Yolanda’s and smiles broadly.

“You were amazing.”

“I was?” Yolanda asks, nerves still tugging at her. “I mean, my parents kept telling me that. And a couple of people in the audience, too, but I still probably could’ve--”

“Yolanda,” Mylene interrupts gently. “You were _amazing_. You couldn’t have been better if you tried.”

Yolanda grins again and kisses Mylene. Then she pulls back and looks at Mylene’s dress.

“You couldn’t _look_ better if you tried!” Yolanda says, raising an eyebrow at Mylene. Yolanda gently strokes Mylene’s sequin-clad stomach and gives Mylene a _look_. “This is new.”

Mylene blushes and shivers. “Yeah. Shaolin helped me get it today.”

Yolanda smiles, rubs the small of Mylene’s back and gets as close to Mylene as possible.

“Thank you, Shaolin.”

**

Zeke has never looked so tired before.

It’d be funny if Shaolin wasn’t still salty about the fact that Zeke had to work in the first place. But Shao can’t lie--Zeke looks cute when he’s tired.

He looks really cute when he’s stumbling into the temple and straight into Shao’s arms. Before Shao even knows it, Zeke is bulldozing him onto the couch and spreading his long self out all over Shao.

“Long day?” Shao asks, his laugh muffled by Zeke’s collared shirt.

“ _Man_ , long ain’t the word,” Zeke drawls, making Shao’s stomach flip.

“You know, there’s enough room on the couch,” Shaolin says, putting his hands on Zeke’s waist.

“You more comfortable,” Zeke replies, nuzzling his face into Shaolin’s neck.

“You can’t lay on me all night.”

Zeke lifts his head and kisses Shao languidly.

“Wanna bet?” The rumble of Zeke’s voice makes Shao weak.

Zeke slides over so that only half of his body is draped over Shao’s and Shao tries (and fails) not to whine. Zeke chuckles and slides his hand up Shao’s shirt, resting it on Shao’s stomach.

Zeke is perfectly content to just look at the work of art that is Shaolin Fantastic’s face, until he notices the paper on the floor next to the couch.

“Hey, is that the Marvin Gaye record? The one you been looking for a minute?” Zeke asks, lifting his head ever so slightly to peer over.

“Yeah,” Shaolin answers. “Me and Mylene picked it up today.”

“For real?”

Shaolin nods happily and Zeke sinks back down. Shao sighs and closes his eyes.

“I mean, we had to rob the Notorious Three for it, but still,” he adds.

Zeke looks over at Shao and howls with laughter.

“I knew you two being friends was a bad idea!” Zeke cries as his body quakes with laughter. “You two are a mess.”

Shaolin shrugs, and leans over to kiss his boyfriend.

“True. But we had a good day.”

**Author's Note:**

> For pathotrix because you always leave super helpful comments on my stuff.


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